Nothing Left to Lose
by TheLastWinchesterStanding
Summary: Quentin Lance had seen awful things during his spell as a SCPD officer. But none would be so horrifying as the scene he'd found himself in on that particular night. A different ending to Season 2 episode 20, Seeing Red. In which Moria isn't the only Queen killed in Slade's ploy for revenge. Warning: Arrow-esque violence and very light swearing


**A/N:** **Seriously** **, and sort of unexpectedly, been sucked into this fandom. Not that I'm complaining of course! This is the f** **irst part of a short two shot.**

 **For those of you following my other story : No, _it's not abandoned._ Yes, _I am still working on the next chapter._ I've hit a bit of a block trying to write reactions to what happened in the last chapter but I'm still diligently trying. Honestly, I must have written three or four versions now but none of them flow :( Hopefully one will stick, but until then, enjoy this short work.) **

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Quentin Lance wasn't sure of much in this world. In fact, one of his core beliefs had been more than a little shaken recently. All his life, he'd thought you didn't have to go outside the law to find justice, and until recently he believed that. No exceptions. And then a strange case had crossed his desk. The very original. The Hood. Quentin had tried to retain his core belief even when he responded to the vigilantes call for aid during the Merlyn debacle. If anything that night, the destruction and death _(503 souls lost),_ as the world shook beneath them, had all but eradicated that.

So Quentin had adapted.

If the police couldn't help this city, well Quentin would just find someone who could.

And then his little girl came back to him. Sarah was alive and Quentin had never been so happy. Once again his life seemed to be right side up. Which lasted right up until Sarah had quietly confided in him that Oliver Queen had not only saved her life multiple times on the island, but he'd also done everything in his power to shelter her. Of course, she refused to elaborate or give any details. But from what Quentin understood he owed a serious debt to the younger man.

Another of his near core beliefs, his patented ' _Oliver Queen is scum_ ' mindset, all but disappeared. Because no matter the kids failings, Oliver had reportedly saved his little girl. The older man ached to know more on how exactly he'd saved her. But for now, he was just happy to give credit where it was due, or at the very least to turn off his animosity toward the boy.

If Oliver noticed he never said a thing.

Just when Quentin figured his life was beginning to settle down, something went wrong. At first Quentin wasn't aware. He'd been on cloud nine now that Sarah had returned home officially - and when he saw his daughter take up old habits with Queen, Quentin held his tongue because maybe now that blind hatred wasn't in the way, Quentin could admit Oliver was a good man. There were no outer signs that anything was especially out of the ordinary. Except all Quentin had to do was look at his youngests' tired and worried face to know all was not well.

And if he'd also noticed Oliver acting edgy and frightened, Quentin took it as nothing more than further proof something was terribly wrong.

So Quentin had braced himself. He'd tried gentle inquiries but whatever was going down, Sarah was tight lipped. It left Quentin a little breathless thinking of her out there in unknown danger. But he'd consoled himself in knowing when something happened he'd be amongst the first to know.

The former detective had been on call when the news went out.

A crash. A bad one at that. But that wasn't what had everyone's pants in a twist. No, it was the fact the entire Queen family had been dragged from the wreckage before being ghosted away. Surveillance footage showed a man in a black and gold mask lifting the three Queen's one by one from the wreckage before placing them in his van. Quentin tried not to wince when the masked man threw the unconscious Oliver bodily onto the floor, proceeding to hog tie the man in a very painful looking manner before tossing the former castaway into the van alongside his family. The black plate less van was all they had to go on. Quentin put out a call to his little girl but apparently she was unreachable. Without her as an in between, Quentin quickly fished out the vigilante's burner phone before pressing dial.

The Detective didn't want to know what it meant that the call rang out.

It was only a few hours later that a call came in, from an anonymous tip, telling him where to find the Queens. Quentin, naturally, rushed his way into first responder. He arrived on a seemingly deserted stretch of road. For a moment Quentin entertained the idea that the tip called in had been nothing but a poor tasting prank. The moment he'd stepped out of his cruiser the sound of some sort of keening reached him. Quentin didn't want to imagine what poor animal was making the wretched noise. Except this was the location given and there was nothing else out here. Already feeling foolish, Quentin followed the noise. He stumbled through the brush for a short span before coming across an open clearing.

In the wax moonlight Quentin uncovered what true horror was.

The first thing Quentin noticed was the sheer amount of glistening black blood that surrounded the three figures huddled in the middle of the field. The second thing he realised was that terrible keening noise was coming not from a dying animal but from Oliver Queen himself. Quentin had moved quickly toward the three huddled figures after checking he was clear. It was only as he approached closer that Quentin discovered the horrible truth. Both Moria and Thea Queen's eyes stared lifelessly out at him from where their heads were positioned on the curled up, slowly rocking man.

Still that horrible noise ripped itself from Oliver's throat.

Quentin swallowed and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Only to immediately jerk backwards, falling back on his ass at the reaction of the other man. Oliver's head had come flying up, eyes so wild and dangerous, and a snarl so feral on his face that Quentin wasn't sure it was completely human.

"Oliver. It's me, Lance. Quentin Lance." Lance told the younger man softly. Already he could hear other units arriving on the road behind him. When he turned back to look at the younger man, having chanced a glance back over his shoulder, Quentin was amazed at how calm Queen's face had become. All of that anger and animalistic snarling had been tightly packed behind a bland face with dead eyes.

Quentin thought he much preferred the raw, aggressive Queen.

This facade of his was hollow and cracked at best.

Quentin sat quietly with the man as people began bustling on scene with them. Oliver would flinch back every time someone came near him. A low growl would rumble from him when anyone tried to touch his family. Other than that, Oliver Queen was deathly still. It was only as more lights were lit around them that Quentin realised Oliver was still tightly bound.

"What happened, Oliver?" Quentin questioned gustily. He never would be able to forget the broken look the younger man pierced him with then.

"He killed them. He killed them and it's _my fault_." Oliver told him before the man's face simply _crumpled_. Quentin could bare the broken sobbing for only a minute before he was throwing himself forward to pull Oliver into a hug. Oliver jolted in his arms for a second before the man seemed to just fall into the embrace. Oliver put his forehead against Quentin's shoulder and cried into the empty space between them.

"We should be moving you to a hospital now, Mr Queen." Lieutenant Pike ordered in a subdued voice. If not the gruesome murders, the presence of the desperately broken Oliver ensured everyone on scene was subdued and far more morbid than usual. Quentin nodded to his lieutenant. He braced himself for this battle ahead.

"Alright, come on, Oliver. We need to get you out of here, kid." Quentin told him. He used his arms wrapped around the younger man to slowly begin lifting him. Oliver struggled weakly but was clearly unable to break the ropes securing him. Quentin was almost glad because it meant Oliver couldn't fight against the former detective pulling him away. That is until Lieutenant Pike stepped in. Thinking himself doing Queen a favor, he'd sliced through the ropes.

Things very quickly fell apart for Quentin then.

Oliver had slid out of his hold and back to the floor where he had landed heavily on his knees. Quentin didn't want to think on how Oliver's entire body seemed to shiver as he slowly and with great gentleness brushed his sister's cold cheek. He pitied the kid, he really did. But right now, leaving Oliver here amongst his slain family? They were doing more harm than good. The kid needed to be moved.

It was a battle every inch of the way until some bright spark decided to simply stick Oliver with a needle that sent the kid into an even more frenzied struggle, until of course going completely limp thanks to the drug's effects. Before it was over, Lance was sporting a black eye and bruised ribs. And he wasn't the only one hurt. Pike's nose was still pumping blood, the patrol officer who'd come to his aid was holding his wrist out away from his body. Across from him, Stevenson was on the floor, hand between his knees as he warbled a groan. It appeared Oliver was more than willing to fight dirty. Still, Quentin felt a little sheepish subduing him in such an underhanded way.

Oliver was carted off to the ambulance on a stretcher. Quentin watched the, even now when drugged to the nines, twitching kid get further away and knew what he was going to do. A quick word with an annoyed Pike found Quentin sliding into the ambulance beside the sole remaining Queen.

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 **A/N: As I said, this will be a two shot, so stayed tuned for the next chapter which I've all but finished. **

**Reviews give me life, so let me know what you thought with one!**


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